


Take Shelter

by pinkchubbiebunnie



Category: Music RPF, Pop Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, f(x)
Genre: Alcohol, Drug Use, Drugs, F/F, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Oral Sex, Partying, Recreational Drug Use, Shameless Smut, Smut, i wrote this so long ago so pls don't judge me, smoking weed for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 09:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkchubbiebunnie/pseuds/pinkchubbiebunnie
Summary: This party was just supposed to be like all the others. Drunk idiots, loud music - stuff Amber could get tired of, stuff Amber could give up. But then there was you. You were different. In every sense of the word. And unlike Jack n Coke or a club remix of 7/11, Amber knew she could never get tired of you. Amber x Fem!Reader. Smut.
Relationships: Amber Liu/Reader
Kudos: 5





	Take Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> title and the general vibe is inspired by the song Take Shelter by Years & Years. I wrote this sooooo long ago when Amber was my ub and I used to get major feelings about her like every single day. and even though I wrote it so long ago, I still really like it, and it's kind of weird that I'm only now getting around to posting it here. I hope you like it -Tanisha<3

“Exactly, I’m telling you it’s gonna be so lit tonight,” Krystal was on the phone, with God knows who, maybe Jackson, maybe Yoongi, maybe one of the other hundreds of people in her contact list, saying the same thing she said about every single damn party.

Amber rolled her eyes from where she was on the bed. She was stretched out on one side of the impressive plush queen, the other side completely taken up by a spread of sparkly party dresses, short skirts, and funky tops, even the odd shoe, in Krystal’s effort to pick out an outfit. She would have been asleep for long ago, with the expensive, girly-smelling pillow - she _wished_ she had the time to wash the bed clothes in her own apartment this often - under her head, if it wasn’t for Krystal’s incessant yakking. Amber barely had one minute of peace or silence since she got in the door, because Krystal was going phone call to phone call, with some of them even on speaker phone, polluting Amber’s ears with noise.

It was like this every weekend. On some weeknights, too, depending on schedules. Somebody would come up with some lame excuse for having a party (this time it was because they just finished recording the last session for the Red Light album) and end up at someone’s house, music pumping, smoke drifting, bottles flowing, bodies sweaty and willing. Krystal’s house, a beautiful, big, mansion-like house in middle of butt-fuck nowhere (farming country) that had been built in the eighteen-hundreds during times of the slave trade and very recently restored, had become the house of choice. Krystal had become very, very proud of her party house status. She lived for the thrill; for seeing how many more shots she could down than the night before, seeing who she could take to bed and why, seeing how much easier it would be for her to shake off the hangover the next morning. The rest of the f(x) girls just got sucked into the lifestyle behind her.

Mostly because they enjoyed it, too. Idols were naturally at risk to be party girls. And boys. Work your ass off during the day and play hard at night. To relive the stress, of course. Amber didn’t have a problem with that, at first. She liked attending the parties when they really started getting going. She could hold her booze and her smoke and whatever else was offered to her; even dick and pussy, in droves. It was a good time and a great contrast to the strain of being in a studio for hours on end and being stuffed into uncomfortable clothes on red carpets with everyone’s eyes judging you. She thought that was why all the idols got together at parties like this.

But for her, it was getting old, fast. Loud music and booze and hangovers taking up all of her spare time when she could have been resting was just getting to be too much. Sulli and Victoria, and especially Krystal, were constantly telling her that she needed to get out and live life while she was still young and all that crap. But she really just wanted to put on her Spongebob pyjamas and eat cereal out of the box and binge watch Friends.

“-yeah, yeah, it’ll be, like, the usual time. Exactly. I’ll see you tonight. Bye!” Krystal practically screamed the last part into the phone, making Amber flinch at the high pitch of her voice.

She then hung up the phone, giving Amber but a moment of peace. Then she started talking again. “Ugh, you still haven’t picked one.” She gestured to all the clothes splayed over the bed. The bedazzled outfits, set in dark shades of purples, blues, blacks, and reds, contrasted greatly with the pastel flowers of the feminine bedspread; each little sparkle on each little piece of clothing glinting like a diamond in the burnt orange sunlight coming from behind them. Out of huge window to Amber’s right the sun was just starting to set, glowing in fantastic hues of red, orange, and yellow, even some purple, a sure indicator that the darkness of night would only give people a veil to commune in craziness.

Amber had almost completely forgotten about her designated task to choose one of these tiny party girl outfits for Krystal to wear. “It’s gonna be same as last time, and the time before that. I’m gonna pick one, you’re gonna try it on, hate it, and then try on six others, and then pick the second one you tried on. You think my fashion sense sucks, why do you always ask me?”

Krystal started shuffling hangers on the bed, the sounds of the sequins tapping together as the clothes touched. “You fuck girls.” She stated as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I thought you would have a good idea of what a girl would look fuckable in.”

“Jesus Christ.” Amber mumbled to herself, frustrated. “How many times do I have to tell you that you look great in anything?” Amber wasn’t extremely girly; but one thing she did love about being a girl was being able to comment on her friends’ appearances without them feeling awkward about it. But one thing she didn’t love about being a girl was constantly having to reassure her friends about their appearances. If her guys friends ever did need reassurance, especially about their appearance, they never did ask. But she also couldn’t compliment them openly without them thinking she was trying to get into their pants. Guys and girls were just strange. People were just strange.

“Ugh, you sound like you could be my husband.” Krystal scoffed, picking up a few pieces in her hands and walking back into the closet. “ _Honey, you look beautiful in everything_.” She mocked. Amber just sighed and leaned back on the pillow, staring up at the clean white ceiling. “Is that what you’re wearing tonight?”

Krystal was back at the end of the bed, having walked scarily quiet, playing with the string of her black silk robe. Amber looked down at what she was wearing - a pair of black skinny jeans, an AC/DC tee shirt with a red flannel over top and a pair of black vans. It wasn’t anything different from what she normally wore. She wasn’t sure why Krystal was questioning her now.

“Um, yeah, I came here wearing this, so yeah.” She replied, unsure. She had originally been wearing nothing but Batman boxers and a snapback when she was called to the house, so it was an improvement.

“You always dress like such a dude. How do you ever get laid at these things?” Krystal sounded dubious. It made Amber torn between laughing and scoffing at her.

“Me getting laid has nothing to do with how I dress.” Amber sighed, watching as Krystal still moved clothes around on the bed.

“Well not all of us have your outstanding charm,” Krystal drawled, making Amber smirk. “I need to look hot to draw ‘em in.”

Amber chuckled.

Krystal tossed one of the dresses into her lap, it landing in an unpretty heap. “Put that on.” She demanded. Amber stared at the fabric, unimpressed.

“No.” She declined automatically; without even properly looking at it, she knew it was probably short, tight, and uncomfortable - something she would never wear, especially to a party where so many eyes would be on her.

“You know, I remember when you used to wear dresses. And you looked hot,” She shed her robe and picked something up, going to try it on.

“You mean when wardrobe forced me into dresses? Before they 'found my look’?” Amber reminded her, sitting up on the bed and watching Krystal as she slid on a very tight leather skirt.

“Whatever. Just try it on, you might like it.” Krystal nagged, focusing more on her own reflection in the mirror.

Amber stood from the bed, the ridiculous piece of clothing in her hand. She knew if she didn’t at least try it on, Krystal would never be pleased, and would never leave her alone. She stripped herself first of her flannel, still talking to her companion. “What if I don’t even wanna go to this party?”

“What?” Krystal was clearly shocked. “The queen of beer pong doesn’t want to go to a party?”

Amber was proud of her history with beer pong. But the only she was so good at it was because she had played it so many times at so many parties that were really getting boring and repetitive.

Her pants were around her ankles when she made her reply. “Well, I’m just… tired. Can’t I just take a nap instead?” She had a childish whine to her voice that made Krystal frown.

“You’ll have plenty of time to nap when you’re dead,” Krystal pulled out one of her typical lines, picking a top to go with her skirt.

Amber whipped her tee shirt over her head. “Well I might just kill myself if I hear another bad 'Shots’ remix.” She held up the dress, trying to figure out how she might approach putting it on. “Do you even realize how many of these things we’ve been to? Doesn’t it ever getting boring to you?”

“I’m sorry, but I will never get tired of doing body shots off Jackson Wang’s glistening abs, okay?” Krystal was breathy just at the thought of it, but it made Amber cringe.

She kicked off her shoes and her socks got hooked on the rough sequins of the dress the first time she tried to step into it. “Okay, first of all, ew, Jackson is like my brother. And second of all, you won’t say that when you go into liver failure thirty years from now,” Amber stumbled, getting both feet into the very, very tight dress before she started hoping and shimming to get it up her body.

“Didn’t you make out with Jackson once?” Krystal posed, walking around the bed to help Amber into the outfit.

“Once. And it was a mistake.” Amber said pointedly, become breathless as Krystal zipped up the dress. “He was trying to make me prove to him I wasn’t a lesbian, and there was a lot of whiskey involved. It was stupid.”

“Whatever. Go look in the mirror.” Krystal ushered her over to the full length mirror by the closet, and Amber didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she saw her reflection. She looked like a purple, sparkly, stuffed sausage, with her black bra awkwardly sticking out from the top.

“I look like shit, I’m not wearing this.” She announced. Krystal unzipped the dress and it was around her ankles within seconds.

“At least let me do your makeup,” Her friend was just teasing at this point, but Amber was just too irritated.

She picked up her clothes and went downstairs, retrieving a burrito she had left in the fridge the day before and eating it in her underwear before the party started.

…

Amber was always surprised by how these things started. It kind of reminded her of a rain storm; one or two fleeting drops and then a giant, torrenting downpour all at once. A couple of guests, usually the two or three girls closest to them, five or six people at most including boys, would arrive at the house shortly after dark to pregame. This would include what seemed like forever of sipping very alcohol-light drinks around the coffee table or in the kitchen and shooting shit. And then in what seemed like no time, Amber was surrounded by dozens of sweaty bodies with music blasting and hard liquor flowing. It was like everyone else agreed on some exact time that was perfect to arrive and start the downpour that was party time.

By now she found herself in the kitchen in the heat of everything. Bottles, both full and empty, were accumulating faster than she could count, and she herself was on her sixth cup full; though this one was only really the first of something stronger. Tonight she didn’t feel like dancing, she didn’t feel like playing beer pong or flip cup, she didn’t feel like flirting and trying to take someone home. Hell, she didn’t even feel good enough to socialize with the people here that she already knew. She thought maybe the best course of action was to get wasted on something that would burn her taste buds, smoke enough to make people tolerable, and see if the boys had the X-box set up anywhere like they normally did. Because even though they were k-pop idols, they were still big enough dorks to want to play video games at a party.

She downed what was in her cup and poured herself another serving of cheap Jack and Coke that was only really two dribbles of Coke. She took the cup in her hand, manoeuvring out of the kitchen through people getting their own drinks and around couples sucking face (one of which she swore she recognized as Mark Tuan and Victoria, which her friend swore she’d never go there again, but Amber brushed it off) to get back to the stairs.

Across the room, in the flashing party lighting, leaning with back against the stair case - there you were. Gazing out over the party goers as they shamelessly dry humped each other to the music, holding a red cup in your own hand, hair falling around your face just enough to make you intriguing. You were absolutely fucking gorgeous. Wearing a simple, loose, girly sweater and the most obnoxious pair of sparkly shorts (some kind of weird 'casual on top’ and 'party on the bottom’ look, Amber thought to herself) and just standing there; the perfect wallflower, just waiting to be picked.

Amber had never seen you around here before. She would have known, would have recognized that face for sure. She would have had you for long ago if you were a regular at these parties. She didn’t know what it was, but she found herself drawn to you; found herself walking directly across the way, through sweaty dancers and stumbling drunks to get to you, without even giving her feet permission. When she came to a stop, she was about two feet away from you. Enough space not to personally invade yours, but close enough that it was intimate and you both could hear the other over the blasting music when you spoke.

You looked up when you were really alerted of her presence, and she felt her stomach tighten looking into your eyes for the first time. Little did she know, you were feeling something in the same.

“You’re new around here,” Amber let the first thought in her mind pour from her mouth, you watching her, intrigued.

You gave her a confused look in response. You didn’t know who this strange girl, didn’t even know for sure if she was a girl, but you knew she was hot and that she taken a sudden interest in you.

“This is a house party.” You noted, trying to pick apart her statement. “I didn’t - didn’t think people could be 'new’ around here. Or old. But no, I’ve never been here before. I don’t even know whose house this is,” You were being completely honest, making pleasant conversation rather than flirting. Mostly because you didn’t have much experience flirting and you didn’t want to be a train wreck before even introducing yourself to this very hot, hot person.

“It’s my friend’s house. And what I meant is that we usually just hang out with the same group of people; we don’t get a lot of new faces. Especially not as gorgeous as yours,” Amber easily turned on the charm, putting out her own brand of easy, natural flirting. She took a long, smooth gulp of her drink right after to brush off her own words as you stared at her.

The blush on your cheeks was evident, even with the strange green and blue coloured lights around you, and you shrunk into yourself, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sip from your cup.

“Must be a really close-knit group,” You joked after a brief moment of silence, motioning to the mass of people in the room before you.

Amber chuckled, and you felt a stirring in your chest at her laugh. There was something about her that caught your eye already. Maybe you would regret that later, you didn’t know.

“What’s that?” She questioned, motioning to your cup.

“Coke Zero.” You told her truthfully, partly embarrassed. You weren’t a drinker - alcohol had only passed your lips as many times as you could count on one hand, and you had never been drunk before. You didn’t see the need to. Being the sober caretaker to passed out and throwing up friends one too many times gave you the perspective you needed to know that you didn’t need alcohol at a party to have fun. But you were versed enough in basic social construct to know that sooner or later a greasy drunk boy would ask to get you a drink, and if you already had a cup in your hand, you could turn him down a little easier.

You hadn’t at all anticipated a gorgeous ladyboy approaching you. If she offered you alcohol you would have to turn it down because really all you wanted to drink was her.

She held out her hand to you. “I’ll get you a refill. And then maybe we can… talk somewhere?” The pause she took before 'talk’ only added so much more suggestion to the word, leaving the entire proposal opening for interpretation.

You looked down at the cup and then eyed her keenly. “Well, my mommy taught me not to let strangers, even hot strangers, pour my drinks for me. So I’ll come with you.”

You reached out and placed your hand in her extended one, easily lacing together your fingers, smirking at her.

She was hooked by your words and turned, guiding you through the crowd to the kitchen. She hesitantly let go of your hand when the two of you came to a stop in front of a kitchen island stacked with bottles, leaving not a bit of counter space visible.

“My name’s Amber.” She introduced herself, voice wrapping smoothly around the words as she walked around the island. It was quieter in here, music slightly muffled through walls, the beat still vibrating beneath your feet. You watched her as she stood opposite you, looking through the bottles carefully.

“I’m (Y/N).” You gave her your name in return, in your head deciding that with a name like Amber she was most definitely a girl. That’s what you were leaning more toward anyway. It also crossed your mind that with her beautiful yellow hair and tanned skin she was a human embodiment of her name.

“There - we’re not strangers anymore.” Amber smirked at you. She picked a bottle out of the bunch and held it in her hand. It was half-full, the deep coloured liquid swishing around against the glass.

“I don’t drink.” You told her, looking at the bottle unnervingly.

“I kinda figured that.” She affirmed. You found yourself blushing again.

When you were around friends you never felt pressured to drink. Many times they had tried and failed in getting alcohol into you, but this felt different. Amber has the ultimate confident, cool air around her that made you want to impress her.

She snatched your cup from your hand, it having nothing more than a sip of Coke in the bottom.

“You don’t do this often, do you? Go to parties?” She continued to make casual conversation as she unscrewed the cap on the bottle she was holding and poured some into your cup.

She was making assumptions about you. Ones which were fair - you focused more on your studies and your recently acquired job than having a raging social life, probably unlike many of the people in this house, but you still felt the need to impress her.

You shrugged. “Sort of.” You tried to keep your answered ambiguous, but felt her eyes staring you down as she put the bottle back. “Well, I mean I would. Go to more parties, that is. But I guess I’m a little bit… sheltered. I don’t know people that do this.” You were being more and more transparent, letting the thoughts seep from your mind onto your tongue.

“Then how did you get invited to this one?” Her tone was genuinely curious; she busied herself with adding more things to your cup, making what looked to you to be a disgusting concoction.

“Like two weeks ago I started a reception job at BigHit. I got three different text invites to this party, which, I don’t even remember giving out my number, and the address was left on a sticky note on my desk.” You explained.

Amber snorted. Those boys would. She would have to remind herself to thank them for bringing her, well, you. They always reverted back to their whiny teenage boy state whenever Amber brought up to them any girl that she managed to capture.

“Yeah well this shit gets old really fast,” Amber stated this partly to herself, holding up the cup again, offering it to you. “That’s a real drink.” She announced.

You took it hesitantly. You put it to your nose - it smelled heavily of alcohol, so much so that it burned the inside of your nostrils. You did nothing to hide your disgusted expression and Amber just smiled at you.

“Come on, party girl. Drink up.” She joked, challenging you.

It smelled disgusting enough that it wasn’t something you wanted in your body, but you couldn’t turn down the challenge. Not with the way her jaw clenched as she watched you and the amusement dancing in her eyes.

You tipped the cup and opened your mouth, letting the liquid flow past your lips. It was warm against your tongue, burning every inch of your skin that it touched within moments of touching it. You swallowed, grimacing, being brought back to the very first time you had a drink.

“Nope, nope. That’s awful. That’s fucking disgusting.” You sputtered out the words out between small coughs, Amber just grinning at you.

You reached over and poured the rest of it into her own cup, not wanting to finish it. You crumpled the cup in your hand and ditched it altogether too.

“You really don’t do this often, do you?” She laughed at you as you went into the refrigerator behind you, looking for something to cleanse your mouth.

“What gave me away?” Your voice was still constricted. The only decent thing to drink in the fridge was girly wine coolers, an obnoxious blue colour for some reason. You took one and cracked the cap, turning back to Amber.

She crossed back around the counter to stand beside you. You couldn’t do much to hide your shiver when she brushed her fingers across your neck, brushing your hair back.

“Don’t worry, it’s cute.” She told you.

…

You and Amber ended up on the stairs. With a large, winding staircase that took up the better part of the front room of the house, it was easy for the two of you to find a space to sit. Amber sat on the step above you, and you sat sideways so you could look up at her as she spoke.

You joked about the people at the party. She explained to you that she hadn’t even really wanted to go, that she was tired of loud music and drunk idiots. You confessed to her that you wondered what was so great about parties like this - made her shy when you thought out loud that maybe she was it. You didn’t know how long you talked; but she drained her cup and pretty soon, even with you taking small sips, the empty cooler bottle was sitting at your feet.

Your conversation came to a natural lull, with Amber braiding a small piece of your hair between her fingers, your head leaned back against the wall.

“You really wanna party?” The words came out of the blue, making you curious as to what she was referring.

She saw the curiosity blooming in your eyes, and scooped you off the stairs with an easy hand around your arm. You found yourself pliant to her, letting her take you upstairs and down the hall to another room. It was almost like a small living room - with such a large house that wouldn’t have surprised you. There were a few couches around, and chairs. The thing that caught your attention most was the smell. It was the strongest stench of marijuana and when you craned your neck and looked above your head, there was a cloud of smoke clinging to the ceiling that could have come from no less than two dozen joints. You were probably getting a contact high just from being the room.

You raised a brow at Amber and she smirked at you. She sat you down in an empty chair and disappeared off, no leaving you with much room to wonder what she was doing. With thick bass thrumming through the floor under your feet, you leaned over one arm of the chair and watched the smoke swirl on the ceiling. Amber was back in no time, fisting a bright pink lighter and small rolled up paper that you quickly recognized as a joint.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to.” She said quickly when saw you eyeing the objects.

“No, no. I want to. I just haven’t before.” You don’t know when you made the decision, but somewhere in the smell of the room and watching Amber’s hands and Amber’s lips you thought it was a good idea.

Amber tucked a hand under your waist where you sat, being much stronger than she looked and lifting you, switching your bodies around until she was sitting in the chair with you neatly in her lap. Her thighs were unforgiving steel under your ass, yet still completely pleasant to sit on, one arm still holding your waist while she poised the joint between her lips with the other hand. Just watching her, the flex of her jaw and the curl of her fingers around the lighter as she flicked it - you found yourself subconsciously licking your lips.

She tucked the lighter into the cushion of the chair when she was done with it, taking the first drag off the joint and holding the smoke for a few moments. Her lips wrapped beautifully around the white as it released into the air, and you found yourself stroking your fingers across her jaw without even really knowing it.

“Want me to shotgun you?” Amber’s voice now had a rasp on it from the smoke, making it all the more pleasing to your ears. You barely registered the actual words she was saying until moments later.

You nodded in reply. She grinned and raised the joint to her lips again, cheeks hallowing as she sucked. She grabbed your chin with tender fingers and brought you closer to her, her eyes hooded as she held the smoke in her lungs. You opened your mouth, holding back a gasp when her lips brushed across your bottom one. She blew the smoke into your mouth; it easily burned up the back of your throat, very little actually getting into your lungs, mostly because you forgot to inhale.

You couldn’t hold back the cough, not with your throat burning up and your heart beginning to hammer, and your lips beginning to tingle insanely. Amber laughed at you, more smoke seeping out of her lips and nose with each little chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s rough the first time.” She commented, her voice soothing. She stroked a hand down your back as your coughs dissolved into heavy breaths. “Do you want another?”

You looked from the joint burning between her fingers to the way she biting her lip. Being that close to her, almost kissing her - it had your skin on fire more than any drug could. You couldn’t turn her down.

You nodded and her hand stroked into your hair. The second time was better. She held you by a fist tight in your hair, sending tingles down your spine, putting her mouth much fuller over yours and filling your lungs completely. It made your head hazy and made you completely tempted to jump her bones. But the tension, the barely touching her mouth and not kissing her, the sitting on her lap the whole house - that was part of the fun.

The two of you finished the joint together. Amber took her fair share more than you, not that you really minded. By the end of it, though, you were even able to take a drag straight off the paper without sputtering or coughing - badly. She stamped out what was left of it beneath her shoe, entwining her fingers with yours when she had both hands free.

Downstairs, the music switched and a deep, throbbing beat came on. It was an obnoxious trap remix of a Childish Gambino song that made Amber only certain that Park Jimin had control of the sound system. You perked up uniquely at the sound.

“I love this song.” You announced, voice quieter and words slurring. You hopped off Amber’s lap, stumbling slightly when your feet first hit the floor. “Dance with me, dance with me, come on,” You were pleading with her childishly, pulling on her hand to get her out of the chair.

At the beginning of the night she would have sworn on dancing. But there was a light, a happy little spark in your now blood shot eyes that made her want to bend to your whims.

She was on her feet in no time, letting you slip her hands onto your hips as you stood in front of her, your back pressed to her chest. Amber was familiar with this position - having been here with too many guys, and too many girls, and sometimes both. But it felt different with you. Even with the stench of drugs heavy in the room all she could smell now was your intoxicating shampoo. She didn’t think she had ever enjoyed so much the curve of a body against her own.

She was captivated by you. Especially when you started swaying your hips, gently, modestly, and mumbling the dirty lyrics of the song under your breath. She held tighter onto you, onto your hips and pulled you back into her, starting her own rhythm to the song.

She couldn’t hold herself back anymore when she saw the blush creeping up your neck. She hooked a careful hand under your chin and turned your head. Your eyes held nothing but amusement as she looked into them, your hips still lazily dancing to the music as she covered her mouth with your own. She tasted like that God awful drink and you tasted like that weak, girly wine cooler - both mixing between your mouths in perfect harmony as the night unfolded around you.

…

As more people dropped, passing out in random corners throughout the house, or leaving for their own homes, or other people’s, the place was looking more scattered and filled with debris of the night. Crushed cups, empty bottles, vomit stains, you even noticed a scattered garment of clothing that had gotten left behind - all evidence of the night wearing down. You and Amber stayed strong, though.

With neither of you having gotten anywhere near drunk and the smoke wearing dull in your systems, you found a quiet spot on the living room floor that was fairly clean and parked yourselves there for the rest of the night. You talked, kissed, just enjoyed each other’s company for the rest of the night. Neither of you even noticed how much time had escaped you.

“-and then he comes out wearing this dress, and it was so short I swear I could see his balls,” Amber was recounting you an interesting tale, a game of truth or dare that had happened in this very house.

You were in shambles of laughter, barely able to reply. “He wasn’t even wearing any underwear? That’s gross!”

You both let the giggles get to you, eventually fading off into a comfortable silence.

“Oh, shit is that really what time it is?” You noticed the clock on the wall, wondering if it was accurate, also wondering why a young twenty-something would have a clock in their house at all if everyone just checked the time on their phone.

Amber pulled her phone out of her pocket, only proving your point, and checked the time before she answered. “Yeah, it’s just after five. Why?” There was slight concern on her face, as though she didn’t want you to go if you had to.

“I have work in a few hours, I have to go home and get ready,” You bent your legs under yourself, beginning to hoist yourself off the floor when Amber caught you by the wrist.

“You could at least stay for some coffee or something. You know, sober up a bit before you go,” She was biting her lip, looking up at you with big, hopeful eyes.

You gripped her hand from her hold on your wrist, hauling her off the floor to stand along with you.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” You hated turning her down. You wanted to stay; you wanted to stay _so badly_. If it were up to you, you would have just wasted away the rest of forever talking with Amber. But you had your stupid responsibilities and she probably had hers, too. “And it’s been hours, there’s no way I’m still drunk. I wasn’t even drunk in the first place.”

You let go of her hand and went to walk away from her, but then something happened. Something you never expected. Amber took a tight hold on your forearm and dragged you, slamming your back tight against the wall. Your shoulders stung with the impact and your entire body tensed with a jolt. It surprised you, made your stomach quake. She was right in front of you, arms on either side of you, trapping you in against the wall. The warmth of her body, from knees to shoulders, was burning up the bare centimetres between you. She had been playing, flirting all night - but nothing had been this direct, this sudden, or anywhere this rough.

Something had changed in her dark eyes. Even with the golden blonde hanging strands over them, the look was still deadly gazing into your own. It had gone from playful to smoldering and killer. The look she was giving was powerful enough to make the very air around you change. You felt it thicken up in your lungs, make your breathing heavier. You felt a weight between your legs that very few had drawn from you in the past, especially with just a look. This was a vastly different Amber than the one that had been hosting you all night. But you liked it. You loved it.

“I’m not used to getting turned down.” She declared, her breath hot against your face. “I’m used to getting what I want.” There was a baritone in her voice that hadn’t been there before. It rattled you, shook vibrations all the way to your core.

You didn’t know if she was looking for you to reply. If she was, there was no words to be had. They had dissolved some place between your mind and your throat, eaten up by Amber and her eyes and the imposing press of her thighs on yours as she got closer to you. From a window somewhere was the very first cracks of daylight, the first peeks of the rising sun, creeping in to greet the two of you. It illuminated the side of her face and that swoop of God forsaken hair, making her look as hot as she was making you feel.

She reached, delicately brushing her fingertips over the skin of your neck, just under your jaw, leaning her whole body into that touch. Now you were at steady contact, however light, from perfect thighs to plush breasts pushing against your own, heating every inch of your skin through layers of clothing. Her chin barely brushed yours, timid, still boring into your eyes, the entire moment going in slow motion as her bottom lip just touched your own.

“Right now what I want…” The heat of her words was fire against your mouth, her taking the pause and unknowingly making you hold your breath in anticipation of the ending of the sentence. Of what she wanted. You had a feeling you knew what it was. You knew what you wanted it to be. But your heart stilled in your chest until she actually said the words. “…is you.”

You weren’t even sure if your heart picked back up after she said it. But she was consuming you in whole, eyes smoking you out like the fire she was igniting in your belly, her presence still burning through all of your clothes, and you wanted nothing more than her. It was all about Amber now. Screw work, screw responsibilities. She had suckered you into drinking and smoking with those eyes, that charm, and this was only one step farther. This was something you wanted with your whole being.

“Then have me.” The words were constricted by your throat, but sure enough to be heard by her.

She attacked you. Hands gripping tight on both sides of your neck, half in your hair, lips on yours within milliseconds. Her mouth easily covered yours whole, and you pushed back, desperate to feel more, more of her. Her fingers dug into the back of your neck, thumbs on either side of your jaw, pulling you closer than you thought possible. Your hands flung to her waist, drifting between the fabric of flannel and tee shirt, feeling a slim, toned form beneath your fingers that was so easily hidden by loose clothing.

She was she first to pull away from the long kiss. Skin leaving skin made the sweetest peck resound in empty air that sent chills down your spine. You gripped two fistfuls of cotton, seeking some ground to hold onto, light-headed but thrilled from the kiss. Amber was panting puffs of air over your parted lips, you reflecting that action right back, her fingers now drawing little patterns where they lay on your skin.

“Do you still wanna leave?” Her words were somehow playful again, even after all that.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth. You opened your eyes, never remembering closing them, met once again with the lustful fire burning in hers, and the upturned corners of her mouth to echo your giggles.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” You answered, and she formed a full-blown smile. That smile that brightened her whole face, brightened the air around the two of you, reflected the birthing daylight off her cheeks in big beams.

“Can I take you upstairs, or is that too forward?” She wasn’t hesitant in her question, knew it wasn’t too forward, despite her own statement. She was teasing you, making you say it. The smirk adoring her beautiful lips said it all.

You played right into her hands. Amber made you pliant, submissive in the best ways, and you would do whatever she wanted of you, say whatever she wanted. “I’d rather that than having sex with you out in the open, on the floor,” Your voice wavered ever so slightly, mostly because her astounding confidence gave you nerves. You were in high school again, stumbling around in the back seat of a car with the lust boiling through your veins being the only thing driving you. That’s what Amber did to you.

“You’re so cute,” The comment would almost seem before to herself, in a laugh that dissolved into the air as she took you by the hand and pulled you off the wall.

It was miraculous that your feet worked - under such circumstances you should have been stumbling, falling over as she lead you up the stairs and to a bedroom with a closed door. Amber prayed that Krystal wasn’t inside, that tonight of all nights she hadn’t scored, and if she did, she wasn’t in here. Her prayers were answered when she opened the door: all the bed contained was the remains of Krystal’s outfit quest, with the golden rays of early morning sunshine bursting in through the window, the curtain having never been shut.

Amber ushered you in front of her, letting go of your hand to close and lock the door behind you both. When she turned back around, you were facing her, nervous fingers playing with the hem of your top, watching her, waiting for her next move. Your big eyes staring her down so innocently couldn’t have been anymore endearing to her, couldn’t have made her want to devour you anymore. Your hair, whole silhouette with a bright halo given the light coming the window behind you. A slightly jaded, party-worn, pink-cheeked angel standing in her presence, waiting for her. Amber was lucky as hell.

She flung to you like a magnet, hands on your hips, mouth on yours again, pressing her body tight against yours. This kiss was much hotter, held much more promise of something more to come. You followed your body, trying to let your nerves go, letting your hands sink into that hair, as soft as spun gold. She smiled ever so slightly against your mouth, winding her arms whole around your waist, leaving not a breath of space between you. Her tongue was in your mouth the second your lips were parted, when you were struggling for breath, trying to gain precious oxygen without pulling away from her.

You gripped onto the root of her hair, letting your lungs cry for air, embracing the muscle into your mouth. She backed you up, steering you toward the bed, and you felt the backs of your knees hit firm mattress. She hesitantly let you go and you released your grip on her, your mouths parting as you let yourself fall back and hit the bed. You smiled up at her, taking in gasps of air, watching her with intent eyes as she put two knees on either side of your form, crawling over you. She used a certain hand on either side of your head to brush the variety of party girl clothes off the bed and onto the floor before those hands were poised on either side of your head, holding her propped above you on all fours.

The light illuminated her left side, glinting across golden skin as she stared you down.

“Do you want this?” She asked, voice with a rough edge that wasn’t there before. It turned you on, put a prickle across your skin. Just having her above you like that made you all too certain of your answer.

“Of course.” Your hands went to playing with the sides of her flannel, mind wandering to what she would be like out of the clothing. “Amber, I want you.”

It seemed that those words were all she needed. Then she was back at it again. After that there was no calming the fire inside her. She lifted her hands from the bed, sitting back on her knees, putting more pressure on your body. She was positioned right on your crotch, her own center pushing down against your front with all the weight of her body, just sitting. The pressure, the heat through your shorts and her jeans, still and unmoving - it was nice but not nearly enough. She whipped off her flannel and tossed it aside, doing the same with her tee shirt over her head in no time. With this new skin revealed to you, your heart was racing and your mouth dry.

She was wearing a very simple black bra. Every inch of her tan arms, stomach, and cleavage lit in the sunlight like a goddess. A stunning tattoo on her left arm; black ink contrasting against such skin, something that should have been harsh but lived in nothing in harmony in your eyes. You yearned to have every inch more of her revealed to you. With fringe hanging in her face and that fire ever hot in her eyes she leaned back down, planting few stark kisses on your mouth before she descended further. With her lips, plump and hot, sucking on your neck and sending shivers up your spine, you made a bold move. You moved your hands back to her hips, above the line of her jeans, all too happy to touch the bare skin, feeling the slightest trace of sweat under your fingers, and grinded your own hips upwards. You were seeking friction, your core throbbing with the need for something more.

“Hey, I’m in charge here, baby,” Amber’s hands gripped your hips hard, holding you down to stop your movement. She was playing with you again, playing with your pleasure. Your hands gripped into her hips, part on her lower back, tight on the skin as she hooked your knee and tossed one of your legs over her hip. This opened you up to her, making it so much better when she took over and ground your crotches together. It sent a shock up through you, making you moan out in an instant. Her lips were still sucking down your neck, parading a variety of sensations across your body.

Amber wanted more out of you. More noise, more heat, more of anything you had to offer her. Her hands snaked up, taking your top by the hem and detaching her lips from you to pull it over your head. She smirked at the sight of your cute little bra. It was so cute that she almost didn’t want to take it off. A small gasp crept from your lips when her hands traced around your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, unhooking your bra in record time.

She was biting her lip, a sexy look that overwhelmed you as her fingers so lightly traced across your shoulders, taking the straps off and down your arms. The piece was thrown away somewhere carelessly, Amber’s eyes drifting down from yours to your chest. Your stomach flipped with her so focused on you, partly embarrassed and partly flattered. 

“Perfect tits and a pretty face,” She commented, planting pretty kisses down your sternum. “You know that’s actually rare. If you’ve got a good pussy then I might have just hit the jackpot,” She was still grinding her hips on you, her words light and airy in stark contrast to the harsh movement that was burning between your legs. You preened under the comments, not used to your partners being so unabashed. It was something you wanted more of, something you could sure as hell get used to.

“Yeah, along with m-my gleaming personalit-ty,” You stumbled over your words, panting out your reply when she kissed along your breast and enveloped one of your nipples into her mouth. The wet heat around you, hot breath running along your skin made you take a tight hold on the back of her hair with one hand, bucking your cunt up to meet her thrusts.

She released your breast from her mouth what was all too soon for you, kissing across the flesh and then bringing a hand to fondle the other as she still pecked at your skin. You leaned your chest up into her touch, feeling your face flush with blood rushing to the surface. Both your hands slid down into the back pockets of her jeans, gripping her ass tightly to get better leverage to grind up onto her.

“I want to sit on your face. Would you let me do that?”

 _Oh hell fucking yes._ You felt yourself choke on your own tongue.

The words caught you off guard, unexpected and muffled against your skin, stealing the small amount of oxygen you still had left in your lungs. You wanted nothing more than to have Amber above you, have handfuls of those lovely thighs as you tasted her, made her moan for you.

“Yes, please,” Your voice was bare breath, audible only if she was really listening for it.

Your skin grew cold when she pulled away, the air eating away at the space between the two of you. You tried not to miss her body against yours and instead preoccupied yourself with watching her. Her forearms flexed dangerously as she unbottoned her pants, making your mind wander to what those arms might look like when her fingers flexed deep inside you. A thought that only lasted for a moment when she pulled her jeans down, revealing to you a pair of simple red underwear. Her pants barely had time to settle on the floor before she was ridding herself of her underwear, too. Your lips subconsciously parted and your mouth watered at the sight of more tanned skin, a perfectly waxed strip of hair, a pair of glistening lips between two toned thighs that you wanted nothing more to have around your head. You wanted her to take off her bra, too, desiring to see and even get your mouth on her breasts, but the request evaporated from your throat when she started crawling up your body.

There was a high ring in your ears, blood rushing through every part of you at such a rapid pace, indulging in the gorgeous sight as she perched herself above you. Your hands immediately went to her thighs, smooth and warm, as her knees settled on either side of your head. You could smell her - potent and bitter, making your tongue twitch. Your eyes flickered up her form to stare at hers, as she, with the gentlest, most loving touch, brushed your hair away from your forehead.

You didn’t wait for a verbal cue. You were too eager to please her, and wasted no time digging your fingers into supple thighs and hauling her down to your mouth. Your mouth first made contact with her mound, causing her to moan out lowly above you. Her taste seeped onto your tongue, sweeter than the sun pouring in around you, causing you to hum pleasurably against her. Your tongue stiffened, wiggling between her pulsing folds, easily making contact with her clit. Her voice was the sweetest song, breathless moans only making you more determined, and your hips flinched when you swore you saw her throw her head back in pleasure. Fingers only pressing harder marks into her thighs, drinking her in as you drew swirls on her clit and she leaked lewdly on your chin.

“Oh shit, (Y/N), your mouth is amazing,” She groaned out. You didn’t miss it when one of her hands went from above your head to behind her, and she leaned back slightly, ghosting her fingers along the now cool skin of your stomach. Your muscles flinched and flexed at her touch as her hand snaked down your front. The anticipation was putting you on edge, but you chose instead to focus on her and latched your lips onto her clit, sucking feverishly.

She bucked her hips against you, riding your face. She even caught you off guard when her hand snuck past the waistband of your shorts and her fingers started tracing firm patterns over your underwear. You groaned against her, sucking her harder in response, lifting your hips to meet her touch. Above you, her voice was all rasp and incoherent mumbles of pleasure - you didn’t know how she was concentrating so well as her fingers delved into your underwear and circled loosely around your own clit.

You had to get her off first. She wanted to throw you off, prove she was in charge, but you could play that game too. You could keep your composure together long enough to bring her to an orgasm.

You let one hand off her thigh and pushed your two fingers into her opening near your chin, still relentlessly tonguing at her clit. Whatever was coming from her mouth now was nowhere near words, which pleased you, but once again she threw you off slightly and faltered the rhythm of your hand when she lightly dug a nail into your own clit and snuck a finger at your entrance.

“(Y/N), fuck,” Your name was the only clear thing on her lips when she came. Your skin was sticky with her release, still sucking on her and pumping your fingers with hunger. You worked her through her orgasm, her hand stilling completely in your shorts, never letting up until she had to push herself off you.

You felt bare now, without her touching you and with the warmth of her body collapsed on the bed beside you. To occupy yourself you started licking off your sticky fingers, wondering how someone could taste so good.

“Total fucking jackpot.” Amber breathed out, like a proud announcement. Whether it was to you or just a thought that had escaped her lips, you would never know.

She propped herself weakly on one elbow, having been fairly well drained by you, and pulled you in for another kiss when you pulled your fingers from your mouth. It was all sloppy tongue and clashing teeth, both of you still heaving breaths into the other’s mouth in your current state. Your hand clung to the side of her face, the feeling between your legs still buzzing.

“Do you want me to finish you now, babydoll?” Her words vibrated down the back of your throat, and you moaned eagerly in response, grabbing her free hand and guiding it back to your center.

She clambered back on top of you, and you couldn’t help yourself - you started groping her breasts through her bra, especially with the gorgeous cleavage she was showing when she leaned over you. You would have undone it and taken it off completely, but she slipped from your reach when she lowered herself along with pulling down your shorts and underwear.

Your body was humming, now completely exposed, and Amber taking up every inch of your thoughts. She kissed down your stomach, tasting the sheer layer of sweat on your skin. You parted your legs automatically and she settled between them, adjusting her body so that she was now kneeling on the floor. A lurch when through your body when she wrapped either arm around your legs and pulled you close, until her breath could be felt fanning out over your swollen cunt. You dared to look down, to take in the sight - golden hair partially sweat stuck to glistening skin, draped perfectly imperfect so it was just barely brushing your thigh, her eyes filling your lungs thick with smoke once again.

Amber was undeniable. She was going to ruin you piece by piece, that you knew for certain. Especially when she leaned her head forward without hesitation and dug into you like you were her last meal. You didn’t recognize your own voice as it left your throat, couldn’t control your hips as they seized and spurred off the bed.

“Amber,” You moaned her name out high-pitched, the word fitting in your mouth like nothing else in the moment, her taste still in traces on your tongue. You fisted her hair, still amazed by the softness and how it contrasted how hard she was tonguing at you. She was sucking and licking and driving her face deep into you without relent, without mercy, enjoying herself just as fucking much as you were enjoying her. Every muscle in your body was tight, winding up, waiting for the coil in your stomach to release. With the way Amber was going at it, it wasn’t far off.

She felt your thighs shaking around her head, felt every little shake of your hips toward her wanting tongue, heard the way your moans and keens were dissolving into incoherent mumbles of swears and her name. She had you right where she wanted you and only had to drive you over the edge.

When she stiffened her tongue and flicked it harshly against your clit, that was the fatal move of your undoing. The only thing that kept you grounded was the feeling of each pad of her fingers piercing into your hips, holding you to her mouth as she worked you right through your high. You felt you very being dissolving beneath her touch, leaving nothing but a sweaty, whimpering mess by the time she was done with you.

You were barely breathing, barely coherent or conscious when she heaved herself back on the bed to lay down beside you.

“Do you think you could stay for a little bit longer?” Amber murmured as she kissed up she side of your neck, loving and gentle, her lips wet with something delicious and more than saliva. She stroked a hand across the side of your face, brushing your hair aside; you leaned into the touch like a kitten. 

Fuck it. You were long late for work anyway.

“I don’t see myself getting up anytime soon.” You grumbled back, your voice low and fucked out.

Amber chuckled, but before she could reply, there was a noise across the room. The jiggle of the door knob and then a muffled voice on the other side of the door.

“What the fuck? Why is my room locked?” The voice still sounded drunk, or on the worse part of a hangover, and just made Amber laugh harder. You must have been missing part of the joke.

“Well, you might have to.”


End file.
